Arranmore laughed.

“Hennibul is all right,” he said, “but Molyneux is a shocking duffer.  We’ll give you an easy place.  We have some early callers, I see.”

The butler was moving towards them, followed by two men in hunting-clothes.

“Sir George Marson and Mr. Lacroix, your lordship,” he announced.

For a second Arranmore stood motionless.  His eyes seemed to pass through the man in pink, who was approaching with outstretched hand, and to be fastened upon the face of his companion.  It chanced that Brooks, who had stepped a little on one side, was watching his host, and for the second time in one day he saw things which amazed him.  His expression seemed frozen on to his face—­something underneath seemed struggling for expression.  In a second it had all passed away.  Brooks could almost have persuaded himself that it was fancy.

“Come for something to eat, Arranmore,” Sir George declared, hungrily.  “My second man’s gone off with the sandwich-case—­hunting on his own, I believe.  I’ll sack him to-morrow.  Here’s my friend Lacroix, who says you saved him from starvation once before out in the wilds somewhere.  Awfully sorry to take you by storm like this, but we’re twelve miles from home, and it’s a God-forsaken country for inns.”

“Luncheon for two at once, Groves,” Lord Arranmore answered.  “Delighted to meet you again, Mr. Lacroix.  Last time we were both of us in very different trim.”

Lady Caroom came gliding up to them, and shook hands with Sir George.

“This sounds so interesting,” she murmured.  “Did you say that you met Lord Arranmore in his exploring days?” she asked, turning to Mr. Lacroix.

“I found Lord Arranmore in a log hut which he had built himself on the shores of Lake Ono,” Lacroix said, smiling.  “And when I tell you that I had lost all my stores, and that his was the only dwelling-place for fifty miles around, you can imagine that his hospitality was more welcome to me then even than to-day.”

Brooks, who was standing near, could not repress a start.  He fancied that Lord Arranmore glanced in his direction.

Lady Caroom shuddered.

“The only dwelling-house for fifty miles,” she repeated.  “What hideous misanthropy.”

“There was no doubt about it,” Lacroix declared, smiling.  “My Indian guide, who knew every inch of the country, told me so many times.  I can assure you that Lord Arranmore, whom I am very pleased to meet again, was a very different person in those days.”

The butler glided up from the background.

“Luncheon is served in the small dining-room, Sir George,” he announced.

* * * * *

Molyneux and Brooks drove in together to Medchester, and the former was disposed—­for him to be talkative.

“Queer thing about Lacroix turning up,” he remarked.  “I fancy our host looked a bit staggered.”

“It was enough to surprise him,” Brooks answered.  “From Lake Ono to Medchester is a long way.”